Calpol
by bipping
Summary: Spain isn't feeling too good, and Romano recommends Calpol. Turns out, Calpol can cure more than it was originally though.


**Author's Note:**

Okay, I really have no idea what this is. I believe it's a crack fanfic or something. It has no plot, it makes no sense, and yeah, it was totally inspired by a) me being bored, b) Social Studies being boring, and c) my Spanish teacher making us perform an advert for something healthy. Who doesn't think Calpol could cure anything?

Still don't own Hetalia. Also, I don't own Calpol. Spelling and grammar mistakes are apologised for. Romano swears a bit too. Hey, if you look really hard, you can find GerIta in this! How cool is that?

Also: Spain speaks Spanish. All Spanish shall be translated at the end of the whatever the hell this is.

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><p>"Romano! Romaaaannnoooo!"<p>

The Italian turned around to face the annoying Spaniard running towards him. However, he was not greeted with the usual irritating grin. Spain looked frantic, and panicked.

"What, bastard?" he called to him.

"¡Ayúdenme! ¡Tengo un problema!"

He rolled his eyes. It was just like him to be vague. "What's wrong?"

Usually his uninterested tone would've made Spain pout. Today, it seemed to encourage him. "¡Estoy enfermo!" Spain whined.

"I got that, stupid tomato bastard!" Romano replied angrily. "What's the actual problem?"

"¡Voy a morir!"

Romano rolled his eyes again. "Oh, I wish," he muttered to himself. "Spain, what's wrong? What the fuck is your problem?"

Spain paused for a moment. He appeared to think, almost like he was trying to remember what was wrong with him. "Tengo un dolor de cabeza, tengo tos, y me esta sangrando los ojos."

"You what?"

"Ten-"

"I GOT IT THE FIRST FUCKING TIME!" Romano yelled. Then he stopped yelling, and translated mentally again. Spain had said- but he couldn't have- Spain was so obviously not- "Maybe I translated your stupid language wrong," he admitted tentatively.

"Well, the first thing I said was that I had a problem, and you were like "What's wrong," and I said-"

"I was on," spoke Romano through gritted teeth, "about the last thing you said. Not the entire fucking conversation."

"Oh, I said I had a headache, and a cough, and I'm bleeding from my eyes!"

So he had translated it right...but Spain wasn't bleeding from his eyes. They were as green and stupid looking as ever.

"You're not bleeding from your eyes, bastard," he informed him, confused.

"Oh, but I am Romano! Look!"

Romano recoiled in horror. Spain was bleeding from his eyes! And the blood was dripping down his face, and his shirt, and the bastard was standing in a pool of it, screaming. "HOW THE FUCK DID I NOT NOTICE THAT?"

Spain shrugged. "I've also been coughing and screaming this whole time."

"I didn't hear you cough..."

"You didn't? Romano, I must have coughed up a lung or something! How did you not hear that?" Spain laughed.

Romano grumbled to himself that the bastard was making it up. He most definitely had not been bleeding through his eyes a few moments ago.

"Oh, yeah, will you help me now Romano?" asked Spain sweetly, smiling moronically despite the blood trickling down his face.

"I guess...why the fuck are you bleeding through your eyes anyway, bastard?"

"Oh..." Spain fell silent. Then the smile returned. "It was in the script!"

"The script?"

"Yeah...I was meant to be bleeding from my eyes...Barnaby thought it'd be funny..."

"What kind of sick demented bastard thinks it's funny to bleed through your eyes?"

Spain thought for a second. "Probably someone who's friends with someone who thinks calpol is the cure to cancer!" he answered proudly.

"Wh-what?" asked Romano, once again, confused.

Spain narrowed his bleeding eyes, now an interesting combination of red and green. "You'll see. Now, are you gunna help me-"

"Sure, I think I have something that might help with the whole bleeding-from-your-fucking-eyes thing."

An excited washed across his face. "You do?"

"Yeah." Romano ducked down, and grabbed a green bottle that had been behind him throughout the entire conversation. He was entirely sure why it was there. In all honesty, he had no idea what it was. The bottle was half-full, and the liquid inside it was clear and fizzy. The word "CALPOL" had been written across it in block capitals and purple sharpie. "It's calpol."

"Calpol?" asked Spain, curiously.

"Yeah, calpol. It can do- Hey! This is the shit you were going on about earlier! About calpol being the cure to fucking cancer!"

He nodded.

"How the fuck did you know this was gunna happen?"

"Well, I can only tell you if you promise to keep it a secret."

Romano naturally leaned closer to him, the bottle marked "CALPOL" still in his hands. "I'll keep it a secret."

"Promise?"

"Si, I fucking promise!"

A sly smile fell upon Spain's lips. "The author told me."

"The...the author?"

Spain nodded.

"What the fuck are you going on about?"

He looked hurt that Romano didn't believe him. "The author told me..." he repeated, quieter this time.

Romano scowled. "Anyway, here's your fucking calpol."

He threw the bottle at the desperate Spaniard, then turned on his heel and left.

Spain sat down, opened the lid, and drank the calpol, which tasted an awful lot like flat lemonade. His eyes stopped bleeding.

He then proceeded to tell everyone he knew about his miracle cure.

"I'm going to throw up!" yelled Italy. Spain smiled, and placed the calpol into his hands. He promised that if Italy drank it, he'd feel better. So Italy did. And he didn't throw up.

Naturally when Italy found France crying in a corner, crying, Italy asked what was wrong.

"I think my face is broken!" he cried. "Everyone keeps running away! It's like they don't think I'm beautiful anymore!"

Italy handed him the calpol. "This'll fix it France."

France wiped his tears on the back of his hand. "Really?"

Italy nodded. "Ve, I promise!"

France later asked Prussia if he wanted to go out drinking.

"Sorry. I'm too awesome. I'm already completely shitfaced!" laughed the fallen nation. France handed him the calpol. Prussia took a sip and sobered up immediately.

"Dude!" he yelled. "What the fuck is this awesome shit?"

"Calllllpoooollll," smiled France, like a stoner.

And Prussia, being awesome like he was, decided to take a causal stroll around Germany. He found his brother sitting on a bench, crying. "Yo, West," he called. "What's up?"

"Feliciano is a complete idiot!" screamed Germany. "He never shuts up and won't do his Goddamn laps!"

Taking the seat beside Germany, Prussia handed him the miracle cure. "Use it wisely, bruder."

"Wh-what is it?"

"It's the cure to all your problems: Calpol."

Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, Germany chose this moment to confide in his brother. "I- I think I love Italy as well."

Japan sat beside Germany, and placed his hand on the nations back. Nodding knowingly, he said only, "Calpol."

And so Germany drank most of the Calpol, leaving only one minuscule drop. This drop he then gave to a suicidal America, who was screaming "I AM GOING TO KILL MYSELF IF I DON'T GET A GODDAMN HAMBURGER RIGHT NOW!" outside a bakery in England. This tiny trickle calmed him immediately.

"Oh, man!" he said, savouring the taste. "This is it! This "Calpol" can cure anything!"

America somehow managed to trace the Calpol back to Spain.

"Dude, what did you put it in this stuff?" he asked.

"Nothing," Spain shrugged. "It's just Calpol; la cura con todo."

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><p><strong>Extended an:**

First; Hahahahahahahahaha Barnaby, I wrote you into a fanfic! That'll show you that fanfiction is a pointless waste of time you fool! Even though you will never read this because you think fanfiction is sad and pathetic I WROTE YOU IN! HAHAHAHAHA VICTORY IS MINE!

Second: Sorry if the Spanish sucked. Feel free to correct me. It should translate as;

**¡Ayúdenme!** - Help me!

**¡Tengo un problema!** - I have a problem!

**¡Estoy enfermo!** - I'm ill!

**Tengo un dolor de cabeza, tengo tos, y me esta sangrando los ojos** - I have a headache, I have a cough, and I am bleeding from my eyes

**la cura con todo** - the cure to everything.

Yeah, so when we performed this in Spanish my teacher said it was find, but what do teachers know? If any of it's wrong, feel free to yell at me.

I really have no idea what act of insanity caused me to a) write this and b) upload it, but I hope you enjoy this. I know it's bizzare and crazy and has no real plot, but hey, in many ways, isn't that what Hetalia is all about?


End file.
